


Engage to Heal

by LadyC



Category: Mad Max Fury road, Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Coping with past trauma, Eventually lots of consensual sexual situations, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Post-Movie(s), Rebuilding Society, Reclaiming sexuality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-02 15:06:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4064449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyC/pseuds/LadyC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the summer after the liberation of the Citadel and, now that food and water are available to all, people are starting to regain a healthy interest in sex. Furiosa believes she shut down that part of herself for good years ago, but as Max’s visits grow longer and more frequent, she finds herself wondering if it might be worth the effort it would take for both of them to work through their past traumas and find a way to make things work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: This story follows characters as they struggle to process past trauma and reclaim their sexuality. As such, though there are no graphic descriptions of sexual assault here, there are a number of references to both the assaults themselves and their lingering psychological effects. 
> 
> The title is taken from a quote by Fury Road co-screenwriter Nick Lathouris. He described it as a slogan for the character of Max; I found it to be apt for all of our main characters.

*Now beta'd, thank you KT!

 

* * *

 

Furiosa watched as Max paused to wipe sweat from his brow. It was early summer at the Citadel and scorchingly hot, but he hadn’t removed his jacket and scarf since he’d arrived that morning. Furiosa saw no point in arguing with him, so she’d just watched him lumber on uncomfortably and occasionally passed him her canteen of water. He really should know better by now.

This was Max’s fourth visit to the Citadel since the day of the liberation. Each time, he was warmly welcomed and the Sisters – formerly the Wives – always begged him to stay. But after a few days, it would become clear – to Furiosa, at least - that being around so many people was starting to make him uneasy. So they’d load him up with food, water, and guzzoline and he’d be off. He never promised to return.

He always did.

Furiosa thought it was fitting that he'd shown up today of all days, though she was sure he hadn’t planned it. By her count, it was just about a year since Max had helped her and the Sisters to remove Immortan Joe from power. A lot had changed in that time, much of it for the better, and though she was always careful to point out that those changes were the result of a group effort, she couldn’t help but feel a hint of pride in being able to show it all off. Especially to him.

His last visit, she had shown him the new work they’d done on installing plumbing to collect water more effectively and irrigate the crops above them. Between Dag’s management of the gardens and the advice of the Vuvalini woman known as Water-Bearer, they seemed well on their way to being able to sustain their current population, if not more. 

The visit before that, she’d taken him on a tour of the vast array of rooms in the Citadel that Joe had kept for himself and his family. They watched the former war boys – Brothers, as Capable had dubbed them – as some stripped the rooms of any non-necessities that could be used as building material while others redistributed furniture so that as many people as possible could have a room with at least some degree of privacy. 

Max had responded to all of these improvements with a gentle hum and an occasional suggestion for how to improve efficiency. Furiosa felt she knew Max well enough by this point to take this as the praise it was meant to be.

That afternoon, she was taking him around the acre or so of land surrounding the Citadel that was currently occupied by a steadily increasing number of civilians – formerly known as “the Wretched.” She wanted him to get a good lay of the land so he could give her his thoughts on their current plans for defense. She wasn’t sure, but she had the impression that he’d done some sort of military or law enforcement work in his life before and she wanted to take advantage of that knowledge.

Once they’d made a circle around the perimeter, Furiosa led him into the heart of the former shantytown the civilians called home. If Max’s louder than usual hum of approval was anything to go by, he was highly impressed by the drastic difference in their lifestyles, even from a few months ago.

Furiosa and her council had worked hard to ensure that everyone had as large a ration of food and water as possible. As people had grown stronger, they started doing work in return. Now, there were farmers, mechanics, construction workers, and even History Men and Women to record events and teach the youngest members of their society about the world before. When they weren’t being educated, the former war pups helped carry those materials that could be spared the Citadel down to the civilians. Builders had begun transforming tattered lean-tos into weatherproof structures that allowed for safe storage and even a small amount of personal space.

Everywhere they went, people recognized Furiosa and greeted her with an enthusiasm previously reserved for the appearance of water. A few gave Max a second glance, but none could quite identify him. She understood now the purpose of the jacket and scarf.  With the collar up and the scarf half-covering his face, none of the citizens had a hope of recognizing him as the mysterious hero who helped save them only to vanish. He preferred it that way. Furiosa might too, if she had the choice. Their gratitude had always served as a reminder that her motives for starting on the path that led them here had been less than altruistic. But now wasn't the time to pursue that train of thought. At least Max seemed to be getting a good deal of amusement out of their dedication to her.

As the day wore on and the sun dipped below the horizon, the crowds of citadel workers began to return to their homes. A large bonfire was started and citizens made their way towards it. The farmers unloaded sacks of vegetables to be roasted and beans to be boiled as others passed around fresh canteens of water and chatted amiably.

Furiosa and Max were offered food and Max hesitated, aware that generous portions awaited them back in the Citadel. She felt it would be rude not to accept and took bowls for both of them.

Max nodded approvingly as he ate. “Like real food.”

“That’s all thanks to Dag. She’s been growing herbs for flavoring. The one on there is thyme, she also has seeds for rosemary and basil…” Furiosa trailed off. Basil. That seemed to trigger something in her mind, a memory she couldn’t quite place…

“Um, hey.” Max was looking at her with concern. She shook off the strange feeling and tried to recall what she had been saying, but was interrupted by the sudden sound of a drum. Max started and whipped his head around until he located the source – an old man playing a drum that appeared to have been salvaged from the Doof Wagon. Furiosa put a calming hand on his shoulder and, after a moment, he relaxed into her touch.

Those who had finished eating were getting up to dance as the drummer found his rhythm. Though Furiosa refused multiple invitations to get up and join them, she was surprised by how much she was enjoying being there. She had vague memories of nights like this one, back when she was young, and she would have never thought she’d experience anything like it again.

As the beat picked up and more people crowded around the fire, some began to move closer to one another. She watched as a man who had been too sick to walk last year lifted his partner up and twirled her around before setting her down and pulling her tightly against him. Their hips moved together in a steady rhythm as the woman began to slowly trail a hand up her partner’s thigh.

Furiosa averted her eyes, uncomfortable. She glanced over to gauge Max’s reaction, but his face was unreadable, even lit up by the flickering fire. She caught herself staring and looked back to the dancers. It wasn’t as if his reaction mattered, anyway.  

The couple she had been watching was gone. She saw others repeating the same pattern, moving close and then sneaking away.

She supposed it was a natural progression – now that people’s bodies were fed and hydrated, they would begin to become aware of other needs. That was all well and good for them, those who had never known Joe’s touch, had never been forced to confront the darkest depths of those urges that were leading them on. She, for one, had put all of those feelings behind her. Imperator Furiosa was above all that.

Max cleared his throat and she realized she had been staring blankly into the fire for some time now. 

“You good on food and water for tonight?” she asked.

Max nodded and they began the walk back. As they wound their way through the mix of tents and huts, a woman’s voice called out for them to hold up. Max tensed and his hand went to the gun on his hip, but when the woman stepped out into the moonlight, it became apparent that she was not a threat. She was reedy, a bit older than Furiosa, and wearing so little clothing it would have been next to impossible for her to be hiding a weapon on her.

She took another step closer, her eyes focused in on Max. “Hey, handsome. Lookin' for a root? It’ll just run ya the value of a half bar of soap.”

Max appeared completely at a loss for how to respond to that, so Furiosa stepped closer to him and put her hand on his arm to guide him away. 

The woman must have taken this as a possessive gesture, as she immediately took a step back. “Ah, sorry, m’am. Good on ya. Got a stud lookin' like that, you’d best be keeping an eye out. Rare stock, these days."

Max watched the woman as she walked away and cocked his head. It suddenly occurred to Furiosa that Max might not be over experiencing those urges like she was. He might want... that. She grunted irritably. “What, did you want to take her up on it? Don’t have a bar of soap on me but I could lend you a wrench."

He blinked and, with a quick shake of his head, turned back to her. “Just, uh, didn’t expect to see…” He gestured back at the woman and then all around them. “All this, you know? It’s… it’s good work you’ve done.”

“Yep. Bringing back prostitution is just what I had in mind as an end goal.”

Max looked like he wanted to explain himself further, but didn’t quite have the energy to string together as many words as it would take to do so. She decided to take pity on him.

“Hey, I know what you meant. People weren’t in any state to want… that, even a few months ago. I guess it means we’re doing something right, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded vigorously and she couldn’t help but smile a little to herself as they walked on towards the Citadel.


	2. Chapter 2

Their current sleeping arrangement had gotten its start one evening during Max’s second visit.

Whenever Max showed up at the Citadel, he was placed in workspace adjoining Furiosa’s room. Like most of the rooms in the new society, this one was spartan, containing only a desk, a chair, and a couch that allowed her to use the room for private meetings. On Max’s first visit, he had refused a bed, insisting that he was used to sleeping on the ground and it would serve someone else better. Capable had refused to allow him to sleep on the stone floor and, eventually, the couch was suggested as a compromise.

The wooden door that had separated the two rooms had been removed, so all that remained to separate the rooms was a curtain made from an old blanket too worn to provide much warmth. As such, Furiosa had grown used to the unsettling that accompanied Max’s nightmares. She had chosen to respect his privacy by ignoring them. But one night, after Furiosa had been woken twice from her own nightmares by the sound of Max thrashing violently in the next room, she was concerned enough to get up and go in.

When he didn’t respond to the sound of her voice, she went over to the couch to shake him awake. She was prepared for him to take a swing at her upon waking and caught his arm mid-motion, holding it until he had calmed enough to recognize her. She accepted his mumbled apology, helped him up, and led him back into her room. 

“When the Sisters can’t sleep,” she told him, “they push their beds close and huddle together. It makes them feel safe. You and I have learned the hard way not to count on other people. But for tonight, I trust you to have my back. Do you trust me to have yours?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”

“Good.” She got into bed and patted the space next to her. “Then climb in.”

He paused to consider. She half expected him to turn and walk out without another word, but after a moment, he made a soft noise of assent and lay down next to her. She pulled a blanket up over both of them and settled down next to him. They lay side by side, not quite touching, but close enough to feel the warmth radiating off each other’s skin. The steady sound of his breathing lulled her to sleep.

\--- 

When she woke up the next morning, Max was already gone. Furiosa figured the contact had been a step too far for him and wasn’t been sure what to expect when he returned. But when he arrived a month or so later, a family of nomads in tow, he didn’t even set foot in the office space that night. He had simply approached her bed and waited for her okay before getting in next to her. And so it had been ever since. 

It wasn’t that she couldn’t fall asleep without him. His presence just seemed to make it easier. Furiosa suspected that she should be more concerned about this desire for comfort being alarmingly close to weakness, but after careful consideration, had decided to allow it. After all, it followed that a soldier would be more willing to relax if they knew their comrade was keeping watch. It was just logical.   

And if sometimes, deep in the night, one of them would reach out to clasp the other’s hand for comfort, she supposed that was fine, too.

\--- 

Tonight, sleep wasn’t coming for either of them.

Furiosa lay, staring up into the darkness, Max motionless beside her. She sighed in frustration and then, a moment later, felt him shift and stretch out. She was strangely moved to realize he must have been holding himself still for fear of waking her. “So you’re up, too?”

“Yeah. Some nights the ghosts get a harder grip than others.”

“Guess so.” She sighed.

After a moment, he ventured, “So. What’s keeping you awake?”

“I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

She felt him shrug. “Well, anywhere.”

Furiosa closed her eyes, not that it made much difference on a moonless night like this one. It seemed so surreal that she would be lying there with Max, whispering about ghosts in the middle of the night, that she found herself able to speak in a way she never would in the harsh light of day.

“A few nights ago, I couldn’t sleep, either. Sometimes, it helps to get up and take a look around, reassure myself that everything’s fine. So I got my arm and a torch and went down to main well. Figured there’d be no one around there at night, so I wouldn’t be disturbing anyone.

“Now, you know down there it’s hard to hear anything over the sound of the water, but I got this feeling like someone else was there. I pulled my gun and swung the torch around and I saw this kid dressed like a war boy, like shaved and painted white like they all used to be. He looked fucking terrified, but then his face went hard and he yelled ‘For the Immortan!’ I saw a grenade in his hand and I realized he was gonna blow himself up to destroy the well. I shot him through the head before he could make another move. His body fell into the water and got carried away. No one else heard a thing.”

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah. I let the Council know, obviously, but we’re keeping it quiet. Don’t want people to panic, or to get any ideas. I’m having Capable and Drog – he’s the Brothers’ rep on the Council – keep their ears to the ground. We can hope it’s a one-off, but… hope can be a mistake. The Sisters know that as well as anyone, but still, the way they looked at me when I told them I killed the kid…. They weren’t so sure. They thought there was another way.”

Max sounded unmoved. “You did what you had to.”

“Yeah. The thing is, they found the body yesterday. Never found the grenade. I know what I saw – it was a good kill. It was. I shouldn’t even be thinking about it anymore. But here we are.”

Max was quiet for a long time. Furiosa supposed there wasn’t really an appropriate response to that. She bit her lip and was beginning to turn over when he spoke.

“Few years ago, I saved a family from slavers. Parents, grandma, and a little girl - their only child still breathing. A little thing, only six or so, but tough. I helped them boost a re-fitted pickup and they were taking me back to where my car was stashed when the slavers caught up. I was in the back, trying to take out as many as I could, while the girl hid behind a water jug and the grandma reloaded for me.

“The slavers launched an RPG right in front of us, the father took a hard turn to avoid it, and the girl was thrown backwards. Saw the movement from the corner of my eye at the same time the grenade exploded and my vision went hazy, flashback of some kind. Just lasted a second - I blinked and it was gone. I reached out to grab her, but it was too late. She went off the back and they ran her down.

“Got the driver through the eye a minute later and we were away. None of them could look at me the rest of the trip. Was like somehow they knew I froze. May not have mattered. Probably couldn’t have got there in time, anyway.” He paused. “Probably.”

They lay there, then, just breathing together. There was no pity, no futile attempt to soothe. Just witnessing and understanding. It was a novel experience for Furiosa. For Max, too, she imagined. In fact, she doubted he’d said as many words in the past year as he just had to her. Neither opened up or trusted easily, but they had somehow managed to create a safe space here, alone in the dark.

She opened her mouth to speak again, and the confessions came pouring forth, relieved to be finally making their way out into the open. 

“I beat a war boy to death who refused to do battle. I wanted to impress Joe enough to let me drive the War Rig. It didn’t work the first time. The second time, it did.”

“I chained a man’s foot to a car leaking guzzoline and rigged a lighter nearby.  Threw him a hacksaw and told him he could probably get through his ankle before it all blew. Not sure if he did. He was a bad man.”

“I didn’t take the Wives to save them. I took them to get revenge against Joe. If it would have hurt him more for me to shoot them all in the back of the head, I would have done it.”

“I try to think I’d have turned around for you all anyway, but that’s a lie. If it hadn’t been for the kill switch, I’d have driven off and left you all to die.”

“Joe took me to be his wife. He raped me, many times. When I conceived, I wanted to spare that life from this world. And I wanted to hurt him. I killed it in the womb. And the next one. The one after that, he caught me. Threw me into a running turbine and left me for dead. Lost my arm, but I lived, for better or worse. Worse for some, for sure. All the horrific shit I did for Joe to prove myself, what was done to me, what I did to them… I see it all, when I close my eyes and I’m afraid...”

She trailed off, worried she had said too much. These were her deepest secrets, things she’d never spoken aloud, and she wasn’t sure why she’d made herself vulnerable like this. She felt panic beginning to bubble up inside her. And then Max spoke.

“Once… I had a wife. We had a son. They were my world. When it all started crashing down around us, I swore I’d die before I let anything happen to them. I swore I’d keep them safe. I failed. And worse, I lived. I’ve tried to make it up to them in so many ways. I tried revenge, heroics, running away… I kept hoping it’d be enough. But I’ve never stopped hearing their voices screaming for help or seeing their faces when they realize I’ve failed them…”

His voice broke and she felt him shudder.

Instinctively, blinking back tears, she reached for him. She put her hand on his cheek and used her thumb to brush away the tears there. Then, she moved her body closer to his and slowly, making sure to telegraph her movements, she slid her hand down until it rested over his heart. He froze at first, but then, after a moment, he put his arms around her.

They lay like this, helping each other hold the guilt and pain and grief, until they drifted off, together, into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saw the movie for the third time this weekend and still can't get over how brilliant its world and characters are. Also got the art book and highly recommend it - in addition to a ton of interesting info about the making of the film, there is also some great insight into the characters, a bunch of which I'm drawing on to write this.


	3. Capable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first of four interludes with the Sisters, who are each going through their own healing process. 
> 
> I'm posting this and the next chapter together since I finished the latter earlier than expected and thought the introspection of this chapter and the physicality of the next made a nice juxtaposition. Hope you enjoy!

Angharad had always told them stories.

Stories of love and peace, of brilliant queens and brave princes, of a world where food grew readily and water flowed everywhere – a world she swore had once been theirs.

Miss Giddy had taught them the facts about the world before and its fall. All the Sisters could believe the facts. But it was because of the stories that the idea that a savior might come and take them to a Green Place hadn’t seemed as impossible as it might have.

It was also because of the stories that, when the surviving Vuvalini, Comfrey and Water-Bearer, would tell the Sisters that most men were good and kind and as far from Joe as they could get, Capable didn’t share the others’ disbelief. It seemed natural to her. After all, hadn’t the very first men they’d met outside of Joe’s circle been good men?

Capable wished that Angharad could be here now to see the way her stories had taken root in all of them and blossomed into reality. She wished Nux was here to see the hope his sacrifice had brought to what had once been a place of despair. But, knowing these to be impossible dreams, she focused her energy on honoring their memories by continuing to make their home a better place.

She had started with improving the station of the war boys. In this endeavor, she worked alongside Drog, the war boy who had been the first to step up and pledge his loyalty to Furiosa after the Battle of the Fury Road. It had also been Drog who had, upon learning that the Wives were now the Sisters, suggested that the war boys become the Brothers.

Over the last year, Capable and Drog had put all their efforts towards rehabilitation for the Brothers. Most had been pretty quickly disabused of their notion that Immortan Joe was a god upon seeing his corpse torn to pieces by those he claimed to protect. They were more than willing to do less dangerous and demeaning work in return for better rations of food and water. The rest were given the opportunity to take provisions and leave or, barring that, to join the war pups – just boys, now – and civilian girls in being re-educated by the History Men and Women.

Now, the two of them continued to work with the Brothers, as well as the boys and girls who were beginning to come of age. They also served on the ruling Council. In addition to Capable and Drog, the Council consisted of: Furiosa, their unofficial leader and head of all things military; Comfrey, the keeper of the wisdom and traditions of the Vuvalini and patron of the History Men and Women; Water-Bearer, who oversaw water distribution; Dag, who managed agriculture and food distribution; Toast, who coordinated mechanics and builders; and Corpus Colossus, who had no official area of oversight.

Capable still harbored some resentment over that last inclusion, but Comfrey had insisted that they allow him to join the Council as a gesture of goodwill. Furiosa had been reluctant, but admitted that he did have a good deal of knowledge about the Citadel’s defense and trade practices and, as such, might prove to be a valuable resource. Plus, she had told the Sisters in private, it would be easier to keep an eye on him if they kept him close.

The Sisters had acquiesced, but Capable was regretting the decision the longer their current meeting dragged on. Corpus had a penchant for speechifying and was in the midst of addressing her now in a tone that made her want to reach across the table and strangle him. “Oh, and another thing. And what progress have you made on the cult issue? How wide has it spread among the boys? How worried do we need to be?”

“I’m still conducting interviews, but so far its reach seems limited. None of the Brothers I spoke to had been approached…”

“You mean none of them admitted to it,” Corpus interrupted.

Capable bristled. “By this point, I am confident enough in my relationships with the ones I have spoken to that I don’t think it’s useful to baselessly accuse them of lying.”

“I agree with Capable, sir.” Capable glanced over at Drog. She had told him countless times that he no longer had to address Corpus – or anyone else, for that matter – by formal titles, but it was a habit he had yet to break. “I interact with nearly every Brother over the course of a week and I haven’t heard even a rumor about the cult’s existence.”

“And why would the Brothers tell you if there was one, boy? They know you’re on the Council – you’re fraternizing with the enemy.”

“The Brothers don’t think of the Council as their enemy…" 

“If you believe that, you are even more naïve than I’d thought. This is your failing, Capable – you were the one who told us we had nothing to fear from these brainwashed, violent half-lives…”

“Watch it,” growled Toast.

“I’m trying to help you people! I don’t want this place brought down by a suicidal cult a anymore than you do.”

“So what do you suggest?” Capable asked icily.

“I don’t know. You just have to do better.”

“Very helpful.”

Furiosa cleared her throat. “Alright, people, let’s move on. Capable, Drog, we need updates by the next meeting. Next on the agenda - Dag, give us the numbers for this month’s projected harvest. Are we going to run into distribution problems against his summer?”

Capable found herself too distracted to absorb any of Dag’s report. She could admit to herself that her anger at Corpus was at least partly rooted in guilt. Somehow, she had missed the signs. She had been horrified to learn that one of her Brothers had nearly destroyed the water supply that so many people’s survival depended on.

She also couldn’t help but feel like it was a personal betrayal. Over the last year, she truly had come to think of the former war boys as her brothers. And it was hard enough as it was to keep her heart open to all of them knowing that it was likely none would live past thirty. Now, she had to worry about them being brainwashed suicide bombers, as well.

She understood the instinct to close herself off, to do all she could to protect herself from being hurt ever again. She even found it rather tempting, sometimes. After all, callous as he might be, she was certain Corpus slept far easier than she did.

But, as far as she could tell, you had to start opening up again, start learning to trust, or you’d spend the rest of your life exactly where the person you hurt wanted you to be. 

Capable remembered when she first saw Nux in the rig, curled up and banging his head on the floor. In that moment, she had known she had a choice. And she remembered thinking that she might not have been smart like Toast or strong like Dag, but she could be brave enough to defy Joe in her own way.

So she had let Nux in. She had loved him and she had lost him. She had never regretted it. And so it was and would continue to be, for all of them.

After all, Angharad had always told them not to be afraid.


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing Furiosa was aware of when she awoke the next morning was the unusual sensation of comforting warmth. She made a gentle hum of contentment and tried to turn over, but found herself constrained. Her eyes shot open and a flutter of panic went through her until she recognized the person holding her as Max. Her sudden movement caused him to jerk awake and she saw the same fear flash in his eyes before he, too, recalled the events of last night. He turned his head and his eyes met hers.  

“You okay?” she asked softly.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.”

It was what she would have said, regardless, but she was surprised to find that she actually was. It wasn’t that all her guilt and pain had gone away – she had accepted long ago that they never would – but there was something different. Somehow, saying those things out loud, revealing her darkest self and being accepted anyway, seemed to have imbued her with a lightness she hadn’t felt in a very long time. She could only hope he felt the same.

She rolled out of bed and began strapping on her prosthetic.

“You know Gear Gorge and the Brothers he’s training? Apparently they’re focusing on hand-to-hand this week and he wants to know if we’d be up for helping them out today. Want us to be a challenge for the boys.”

Max shrugged.

“I could use a good, consequence-free fight, couldn’t you?” asked Furiosa.

“Do we have to let them win?”

“I don’t plan on even letting them get close.”

His lips quirked. “I’m in.”

* * *

 

Former Imperator Gear Gorge had been away raiding a far-off settlement for the entirety of Furiosa’s betrayal of and subsequent victory over Joe. He had returned with a few surviving war boys and a truckload of car parts to find the Citadel a very different place. More mercenary than true believer, Gear Gorge had assessed the situation on the ground and promptly declared that he’d never truly supported Joe and would be delighted to serve in whatever capacity Furiosa deemed most helpful.

She had no illusions about his dedication to her, but had enough confidence in his dedication to improving his own standing that she had accepted his offer. He had always been the best fight trainer in the Immortan’s army, so she placed him in charge of working with those Brothers still interested in fighting. Since then, he had been working with them on combat techniques with an emphasis on defense.

When Furiosa and Max entered the cavernous space Gear Gorge had transformed into a kind of dojo, they found themselves being stared at by what must have been around fifty Brothers. The usually rowdy boys went silent, a wave of nervous energy running through them. Furiosa found it gratifying that, even among those who had never seen her fight in person, her reputation preceded her.

Gear Gorge called for silence before walking over to shake Max and Furiosa’s hands. “Thanks for coming,” he said in a low voice. “Ready to teach these kids a lesson in humility?”

Furiosa and Gear Gorge exchanged a grin. He then clapped his hands and turning to face his trainees. He raised his voice to a yell that echoed off the rock walls. “Alright, you poxy boggards. Got a special challenge today, if any of you sorry rats think you can handle it. This morning, you all will be going up against Furiosa, and in case that wasn’t tough enough for you, she’ll be partnered with Mad Max himself!”

If Gear Gorge noticed Max’s scowl upon hearing this nickname, he paid it no mind.

“Wait, we need to fight both of them? At the same time?”

“That’s right. But, to make it even half a fair fight, they have generously agreed to go up against at least five of you at a time every round. Now, ground rules. This will be hand-to-hand combat with blunted weapons. No scratching, biting, gouging, or kicks to the face or groin. When they get you in a kill position, I’ll call your name and you leave the ring immediately. Any questions?”

Another Brother stood up. “Sir, what if one of us gets them into a kill position?”

Gear Gorge shrugged. “We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. Now. Who’s up first?”

As the Brothers lined up, Furiosa and Max surveyed the array of blunted objects that had been lined up against the wall. She picked a staff and he took a mace that had its spikes replaced with padding. Both swung their weapons, testing their heft, before moving to the center of the circle and standing back to back.

“Whatever happens,” Max murmured. “No one gets between us.”

“Got it,” she agreed, and lifted her weapon. They braced themselves for the attack.

A group of five entered and slowly began to circle them. Furiosa felt a thrill of excitement run through her. She should probably be concerned by how much she’d missed this.

She’d sparred with Max a few times down here, usually fighting him to a draw, but it was always apparent that they both holding back, even more than was necessary for a light spar. She figured that he, like her, had too clear a memory of their first meeting, when both had been putting all they had into beating each other to death.

This, feeling him at her back, tense and ready to fight by her side again, was invigorating.

Two of the boys rushed Furiosa while another came at Max. She gave them points for courage, but she knocked her two to the ground with a single twirl of her staff while Max effortlessly caught his and brought him to the ground without needing to use the mace. Gear Gorge called all three of the boys’ names and they slinked out of the ring, making way for their brethren. 

The next two were more cautious, clocking their movements before getting close. It was to no avail. That group of Brothers, and the next, all had their names called within two minutes.

The next group thought they had her and Max beat when they attacked five at a time and sacrificed three to get their weapons away from them. One particularly tall boy was raising a bludgeon over Max’s head, but Furiosa reached behind her with her metal arm to grab the boy and hold him still while Max got an arm around his neck. Max then returned the favor by kicking the legs out from under the boy who was rushing her so she could pin him to the floor, her forearm pressing down on his throat.

“Dox! Jay! You’re out. I want six at a time now.”

Furiosa grinned. This was getting to be a good workout. They dispatched the next few groups with relative ease. Eventually, Gear Gorge seemed to just be allowing the Brothers to pour into the ring at will, just to see what would happen. But by that point, Max and Furiosa had found their rhythm and she felt like, together, they could take on an army.

There was something exhilarating about fighting together again. She’d never had a partner with whom she’d clicked so quickly and naturally before. It was like having an extension of herself. They moved fluidly, ducking and weaving and breathing hard, but never letting a single boy get between them.

“And time!” Gear Gorge shouted. “Max and Furiosa win. Obviously.”

Furiosa glanced over towards Max and he turned to face her, an uncharacteristic grin on his face. He held out a hand and she clasped it, returning his smile. “Good show,” she said. “Want to hit the pool?”

A nearby Brother began to say that the pool sounded great, but he was cut off mid-sentence with a glare from Gear Gorge. “Are you fucking with me right now? You and every one of your forty-six buddies here just got their asses handed to them at the same time by two people. And you think you deserve a nice soak in the pool?”

“Aw, come on. It’s not two people – it’s Mad Max and Imperator Furiosa!”

“Not an excuse. Go, get your asses to the training rooms.”

The boys headed out. Furiosa couldn’t help but overhear a few still talking about how badass some of her moves were and she smiled again. “Hey, Gear Gorge. Don’t be too hard on the kids.”

“Nah, I didn’t expect any different. It’s good for ‘em to be put in their place every so often. Stops ‘em from getting’ cocky.” He winked and gave her a little salute before heading out after the Brothers.

Furiosa shook her head, then jogged a bit to catch up with Max, already on his way to the pool. They were both drenched in sweat and high on adrenaline.

“That felt good,” she said. “Throw in a drag race component and it is everything I’m good at, but without the horrifying parts. We should do that more often. I mean, I could go again right now. You?”

His lips quirked. “I could. If you’re sure you could handle it.”

“If _I’m_ sure?” She laughed and gave him a friendly shove. “I’m not the one who nearly got my head bashed in. I saved your ass.”

He rolled his eyes and moved along, but both of them were smiling all the way to the pool. It seemed the whispered confessions of the night before had lifted a burden from him, as well.

The pool was towards the top of the Citadel. Under Joe, it had been a reservoir used to supply the pipes that allowed him to douse the populace in water at will. Since, most of the water had been diverted to more practical uses and the skull had been sealed up with rock so that only the eyes remained. They now served as windows, allowing light to enter and bathe the room in a soft, warm glow.

The Council had decided to allow the pool to remain filled so long as it was open and accessible to all the Citadel’s residents. They figured that, in the long run, it would save more water than if people used hoses to cool down. The pool had proved popular and was usually crowded in the mornings and evenings, but now, in the middle of the afternoon, Furiosa and Max found themselves alone.

Furiosa paused by a rock near the water’s edge to removed her prosthetic. She had a fleeting moment of uncertainty before taking off her shirt and pants, but chose to ignore it. Having the feel of the cold water on her bare skin was too tempting.

Max followed her lead and stripped to his trunks before wading in. Furiosa averted her eyes to give him some privacy. She lay on her back, floating and watching the hazy light trickle in through the windows. Content, she closed her eyes and allowed her mind to drift.

After a few minutes, she noticed that the room had gone quiet. She opened her eyes and glanced over at Max to find him watching her. She froze in surprise, then got her legs back under her and stood up to face him. He didn’t take the easy way out by looking away or trying to pretend he hadn’t been watching. He just gazed steadily at her.

Furiosa met his eyes and found herself suddenly very aware of how little they were both wearing.

It shouldn’t really matter, should it? She’d shared a bed with this man every night this week, how could this be any stranger? How could she have not noticed before now that he had a scar that ran from just below his right ear to the top of his shoulder? It shouldn’t be a surprise that his body had been forged by a hard life on the road. She just hadn’t really paid attention before.

Now, she watched a bead of water make its way down his throat. Involuntarily, her eyes drifted lower. A light scattering of soft hair traced over hard muscle from his broad shoulders down across his chest and abdomen. Below his navel the hair grew darker, coarser, forming a trail that disappeared beneath his waistband.

Furiosa looked at him and she wanted.

She thought about how perfectly their bodies moved together when they fought and found herself wondering if they’d find that same, easy rhythm if she took a few steps forward and let him…

A sudden crash echoed down the hall and made them both startle. The strange spell that had seemed to come over them was broken.

Max blinked and looked away. “Told Toast I’d take a look at a V8 she’s having trouble getting to start. Should probably get going. I’ll take a look at whatever that noise was, too.”

“Yeah, good call,” Furiosa responded in a flat voice. She determinedly kept her eyes on the water while he climbed out, pulled his clothes back on, and walked away.

Once he’d gone and the sound of his footsteps could no longer be heard, she moved to sit on the edge of the pool and leaned her head back against a rock. She closed her eyes. What the fuck was she doing?

This was unacceptable. She was Imperator Furiosa, queen of the Fury Road and defender of the Citadel. She was not weak. She had no need of a man - not in that way. She only let him share her bed because being close to a person she could trust was naturally comforting. That was all he was. Just a person.

Just a person.

She repeated the mantra to herself, desperately hoping that, if she said it enough times, it would be true.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I doubt anyone who's read this far will have a problem with this, but figured I should give a heads up that this chapter is where the NSFW bits start. Hope you enjoy. :)

Furiosa’s eyes snapped open at the sound of someone else entering the pool area. She was grabbing for her clothes when she saw that it was Comfrey. She allowed herself to relax as the older woman approached her.

“Sorry for the noise,” Comfrey said, indicating the box of pool filter parts she was carrying. Comfrey dropping them must have been what resulted in the crash that had interrupted… whatever it was that had been going on between her and Max.

“I’m just glad you’re alright.” Furiosa smiled. “No need to apologize.”

“Oh, I’m fine, of course. Just felt bad for interrupting the flirting,” Comfrey replied with a wink.

The smile left Furiosa’s face. “Flirting?”

“It’s when two people who are attracted to each other…”

“I know what flirting is, Comfrey. I was expressing surprise that you would bring it up as it is not something I do.”

“Oh, really? You want to clarify what that was, then? I may be an old lady, but I’m neither deaf nor blind.”

“Look, you’re off base here. Max and I were just joking around. I don’t think of him – or anyone, for that matter – in the way you’re implying. If anything, Max is like a broth…”

“No. Do not finish that thought. You can be in as much denial as you want, girl, but  we both know that if you think about kin like you do about that boy, there’d be a hell of a problem here.”

Furiosa chose to ignore that and gathered her clothes as she asked coolly, “Was there something you wanted?”

“No, just here to swim. Keeps my blood pumping without putting too much stress on these old bones.”

Furiosa softened at that. “Alright, Comfrey. Enjoy.” She rose and began to replace her prosthetic.

“You know I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, dear. I just want you to be happy.”

“I appreciate that. But I’d think you of all people would know that being happy doesn’t need to involve a man." 

“No, of course not. But it does need to involve love. I loved Valkyrie quite fiercely.”

“And you lost her.”

“I did. But that doesn’t mean I regret loving her. Not for an instant. You should know that as well as anyone. You lost Basil when you were taken from our home, but that doesn’t mean you regret loving him, does it?”

Furiosa whirled on her. “Do not say that name to me.”

“Well. You seem to be dealing with it in a healthy manner.”

“This isn’t one of our old therapy circles, Comfrey. You think I’m an idiot? You think I’m not aware that having my first love butchered in front of me before I was taken away to be a sex slave has, just maybe, fucked my capacity to ever have a normal relationship?”

“Of course not, child. I’m just watching you in so much pain and thinking about how you needed it, needed the rage that came from it, to just get through the day for so long. It breaks my heart. But things are different now. You don’t need that pain or that rage anymore - they are no longer serving you. The terrible things that have happened to you are a part of you, yes, but so are the good ones, spare as they may be. You’ve been blocking those out for so long to protect them, but you can let them in now. You can remember that, before Joe, you knew that life could be happy, that love could feel good…”

“I was a child.”

“You were 15.”

“A child all the same. I didn’t know that, outside our home, the world had changed. Even now, things may be better than they were under Joe, but loving something still means having something that can be taken and used against you.”

Comfrey shook her head sadly. “You wouldn’t be pleased with what I’ve been telling the Sisters, I imagine.”

“I think the work you’re doing with them is wonderful. They’re so young. Who knows? Maybe they will be able to find love and happiness one day. Maybe it’s not too late for them." 

“Maybe it’s never too late for anyone.”

“I think we both know that’s not true.”

“Fine. Do what you will, my dear. All I’m saying is that, if our places were switched and I had that beautiful young man looking at me the way he was looking at you, I know what I’d do.”

Furiosa rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help smiling at her. For all Comfrey made her uncomfortable by talking about these things, she knew that the older woman cared about her deeply and was only trying to help, in her own way.

Furiosa bid Comfrey goodbye and headed upstairs. She was relieved to recall that Max would be spending the afternoon working with Toast on her car – she needed some time to clear her head.

By the time she made it back to her bedroom, she had had an epiphany. This strange fascination that had come over her was likely nothing more than sexual frustration. She had learned to treat it the way she did hunger and thirst – she gave her body whatever it needed as quickly as possible so she didn’t have to give it any more thought. She had her fill of food and water here, but couldn’t recall the last time she’d slaked this particular thirst. That must be it, then.

Pleased to have a logical explanation, she set about remedying the problem. She removed her wet clothes and lay back on her bed. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax and let her mind drift. Once she was suitably calm, she lifted her hand and began to run her fingers lightly over her breasts. She sighed as her nipples began to harden and allowed her hand to drift lower.

Usually, during these moments, her mind went pleasantly blank as she focused on the sensations. She was not one to fantasize. But now, images arose unbidden. 

Max, ghosting his lips over her neck, caressing her breasts, sliding down her body and pressing kisses into her stomach, her hips, her navel, moving still lower until his light beard brushed the inside of her thigh as he looked up at her with those stunning blue eyes and parted his lips…

Furiosa’s eyes snapped open. _What the hell was that?_

The whole point of this was to exorcise those demons, not encourage them. She was no girl with illusions of what love could be anymore. She knew from Joe what men were like in bed and these ridiculous fantasies were far from it. And if having them at all wasn’t bad enough, it was worse to have them focus on someone she knew and respected and cared about. She would not devalue that by indulging in this… lust? Was that what it was? She had experienced general sexual frustration before, but this was the first time in nearly as long as she could remember that had been directed towards any particular person.

She reminded herself that it didn’t matter anyway, that all of it would go away once she was able to finish.

She lay back down and worked to keep her mind blank as she reached down to touch herself. After a few minutes, she found herself panting and sped up, moving her fingers faster and faster…

And then she was on top of Max, pressing him down into her mattress as she sucked a bruise into his neck, breathing in the scent of motor oil and sweat and musk that she identified as distinctly his. She was running her hands along the lines of muscle she had traced with her eyes earlier. She felt him hardening beneath her and, instead of feeling scared, she found herself wanting nothing more than to take him inside of her and ride him until they were both moaning and incoherent…

She came with an involuntary groan. She had been too far gone to reel her imagination in again. She kept her eyes closed, finally seeing nothing but blackness, until her breathing evened out and she came back to herself.

_Fuck_. This was something she was going to have to deal with, wasn’t it?

 

* * *

Furiosa went down to the mechanic bay and had the Brothers working there point her to a beat-up rig with a busted engine. Working on cars had always helped her think straight. 

By the time she had gotten the motor running again, she had come to a few conclusions.

First, she was definitely attracted to Max. As much as she might hate herself for it, it was a pointless waste of time to continue denying it.

Second, these feelings of attraction only seemed to be growing the more time she spent with him and they were nearing – if not already at – a point where they could no longer be ignored.

Third, she cared for and respected Max as a person and his friendship had become one of the relationships that mattered most to her. If acting on any of these feelings would jeopardize that, it was not worth it. She had no interest in blowing things up if he didn’t feel the same way.

Fourth, she was fairly certain he did feel the same way. She might have limited experience in these matters, but the look he’s given her in the pool earlier was hard to mistake.

Fifth, even if their feelings were mutual, they were still treading on dangerous ground. Both she and Max were coming from pasts that had fucked them up spectacularly, especially around matters of sex and love. Her body had made it clear what _it_ wanted a few hours ago, but she wasn’t quite sure what _she_ wanted.

She was at even more of a loss as to what he might want. Would he be pure and sweet, falling over himself to accept anything she had to give, like Basil? She doubted it. Would he be single-minded and so demanding as to be cruel like Joe? She shuddered to think so, she couldn’t let herself imagine that of him. But Basil had been a boy. Perhaps Joe was closer to what men were like in bed…

No. Joe was less than half the man Max was. He was terrified of losing his power and vitality – the pain he caused came from his desperation to affirm himself. Max would not be like that.

So what would he be like? What did she want him to be like?

It was almost comforting to the think that he would likely be nearly as lost as she was, at first. He had been married, so surely he had a better idea of what he was doing, but that had been so long ago it might as well have been another lifetime. And he was another man.

The only solution, then, would be that they’d have to figure it out together. They would have to look each other in the eye and acknowledge this, to bring it out into the open and explore it. The idea sounded absolutely terrifying to her.

It was the realization that she was terrified that made her decision for her. No matter what else she may have done or been, Furiosa had been certain of two things: she was strong and she was brave. She had thought that acknowledging her feelings for Max would make her weak. It very well might. But if any part of her motivation for not doing so was fear, that would definitely be cowardly. Furiosa refused to be a coward.  As such, there seemed to be no choice but for her to confront him.

Steeling herself, she rose and made her way upstairs. It was late and everyone was likely finishing up dinner around now, so it should be easy enough for her to pull Max aside and take him back to her room and… Well, she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

When Furiosa arrived in the dining room, she found it empty of everyone except Cheedo, who was in the process of clearing the table.

“Oh, Furiosa, I figured you were eating somewhere else tonight. I can go back to the kitchen and get you some…"

“No, it’s fine. I’m not hungry. Have you seen Max?”

Cheedo looked confused. “Max? Oh, I thought he would have told you…”

“Told me what?”

“Max left a couple of hours ago.”


	6. Toast

“Furiosa, can I talk to you a minute?”

“Of course. Come sit down.”

Toast had come across Furiosa alone in the dining room hours after dinner had ended. She appeared to be lost in thought, but Toast knew her well enough not to inquire as to what was on her mind.

“So, I’m kind of struggling with something and it’s been making me feel strange the last few weeks. But I’ve been feeling off even longer than that. Everyone else seems so at home here. They’re all handling this transition so well and just seem to fit in while I feel… out of place, I guess.”

“Toast, you manage all of our builders and mechanics. You’re on the Council. And if that wasn’t enough, you’ve salvaged the few books Joe didn’t burn around here and are making a library for everyone. You seem to be doing pretty well to me.”

“I guess it’s more feeling incomplete, or something. Like, Capable has almost single-handedly transformed the War Boys into the Brothers and she is hugely fulfilled by her work with them. Cheedo knew herself well enough to stay out of politics and has spent the past year turning this awful rock into a place where people can feel happy and comfortable. And Dag… She might as well be a full-fledged Vuvalini at this point. Did you know that, in addition to all the plant stuff she already does – not to mention a baby that’s learning to walk – she’s been having Water-Bearer instruct any farmers who are interested in the Vuvalini’s religious practices?”

“Oh?” remarked Furiosa, a skeptical note in her voice.

“Yeah, trust me, I was not thrilled to hear anything about religion after everything Joe put us through, but this is okay, I think. It’s focused on being in touch with nature and embracing the divine feminine.”

“I remember. Making life as good as it can be in the present moment and trying to go out leaving the world a little better than how you came into it. I’d say the generation before us failed pretty spectacularly at that. But a nice sentiment, nonetheless.”

“Yeah. My impression is that a lot of people are naturally going to want to be spiritual, especially when things get rough. Better they go in that direction than Joe’s.”

“Fair enough. Still, I think it’s not right for you to feel like a failure because you haven’t founded a new religion yet.”

Toast laughed. “It’s not that, it’s just… I guess I’m seeing them all starting to embrace life fully. To make their way towards being happy, whatever that means for them. But for me, there’s something missing. Something big. And the worst part is that I know what it is. I even know how to get it, but I just can’t bring myself to. That’s what I need your help with.”

“Whatever it is, Toast, I’ll do what I can.”

Toast took a deep breath. She had never said this out loud before and the thought of doing so made her feel vaguely nauseous, but if she couldn’t tell Furiosa, she’d never be able to tell anyone. “So, the thing is… I’m in love.”

Furiosa looked mildly surprised, but her voice was neutral as she asked, “Are you comfortable telling me with who?”

“No.” They both laughed a little at that. “But I will. It’s… It’s Cheedo. I’m in love with Cheedo.”

Toast was looking down at her hands as she made her admission. She had no idea what Furiosa’s reaction would and she almost couldn’t bring herself to look. When she finally forced herself to glance up, she found only a compassionate smile on Furiosa’s face.

“I take it you haven’t told her?”

“Of course not. I have no idea if she feels the same way. I mean, this type of love is… Well, it’s not normal, you know?”

“Toast. We live in a post-apocalyptic society we only recently liberated from a patriarchal rock and roll cult. I don’t think being ‘normal’ should really be a concern of anyone’s right now. And regardless, love is love. And it’s hard to come by, especially now. Why not embrace it?”

“The thing is, even if Cheedo were a man, it would still be strange because we’re friends, right? Really close friends. Hell, we’ve shared a bed for years. If I say something and she doesn’t feel the same way, all of that could be destroyed. Even if she tried to act like it didn’t bother her, it would never be the same, you know?” 

Furiosa’s smile turned wry. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? Good things never come easy.”

“And the worst thing is that I’m afraid. I’m so afraid and I’m ashamed to be afraid. We’ve all lived through so much – this ought to be nothing." 

“You don’t have anything to be ashamed of. It takes courage to admit you’re afraid, and even more to ask for help. You’re being braver than I’ve been.”

Toast cocked her head, curious, but Furiosa moved her hand as if waving her comment away and continued, “That said, I don’t know how much help I can be. I have basically zero experience in this type of stuff. Comfrey would probably be a better person…”

“No,” Toast replied firmly. “I wanted to ask you. I want to know how a warrior would handle this.”

Furiosa looked thoughtful. “Well… I guess a warrior would look at the situation on the ground and evaluate the risks and rewards of taking action. And then, if she decided the potential rewards were worth the risks, she would commit to that plan and dive in headfirst. No second guessing.”

“But how do you decide if it’s worth the risk in the first place?”

“That’s something only the warrior can determine.”

“But… Let’s put it this way. If you were in my situation, what would you do?”

Furiosa blinked at her and paused for so long that Toast wasn’t sure if she was actually going to respond. But then she said, slowly, “I would… I’d like to think I’d decide that love was worth the risk.”

Toast nodded, resolved. 

“But, Toast. Keep in mind that, just because you’re ready to take that leap doesn’t mean that the other person is.”

Toast reached out and clasped Furiosa’s hand. “Thank you, Furiosa.

“Of course.”

“You know… Cheedo is a lot stronger than people give her credit for.”

“I know.”

“All I’m saying is, sometimes people can surprise you.”

She left Furiosa looking contemplative and made her way upstairs.

Toast didn’t need to stop and evaluate risks and rewards. Deep down, she had known her answer all along. Now, all that was left for her to do was dive.


	7. Chapter 7

Furiosa was angry, she was humiliated, but most of all, she was disappointed in herself because she should have known. Max had felt something and he had panicked and run away. That was what he did. It was who he was and imagining that he would change because of – what? his love for her? – had been childish and naïve. It was idiotic to have even contemplated acting on pure emotion. She would simply have to push it all back down. When he showed up again – if he showed up again – she was perfectly capable of acting as if nothing had changed. 

In the meantime, she had more important things to be worried about. The Council’s hopes that the “Cult of the Immortan,” as Corpus had dubbed it, was a small and insignificant group had been dashed. There had been an increasing number of reports of cult activity and, most alarmingly, some attacks had begun to target civilians. As of yet, no one had been killed, but she was concerned that this might be only a matter of time. 

The Council had learned about most of these attacks second-hand, as most victims had been too afraid to come forward. But today, there was finally a woman brave enough to testify. When the witness entered, Furiosa was surprised to learn that she was none other than the woman who had propositioned Max by the bonfire the week before. Now, however, she wore a long cloak that, for all her effort, was unable to conceal the bruises that covered her entire body. 

Her name was Evangeline and, as she explained it, she saw herself as a combination prostitute, confessional, and therapist. All three were highly sought after at the Citadel. She had been walking the streets the night before when she had been grabbed and blindfolded. She was taken somewhere cool – perhaps underground – and had her hands and feet bound before being forced to kneel on a stone floor with her forehead touching the ground.

Heavy, booted feet had approached her and, when their owner began to speak, everyone else in the room fell silent. When the man spoke, his voice sounded distorted, as if he were speaking through a thick mask. He had bemoaned what had become of their “once-great civilization” and denounced the women leading it as she-demons and agents of death. 

“The only path to salvation,” he had warned his followers, “the only way to achieve eternal life is through the one, true Lord of the Citadel, Immortan Joe. What would he think of this? What would he think of you for allowing our borders to stagnate as women like this distract men with their soft bodies and false promises of a better life? It is our duty to spread Immortan Joe’s truth through the Citadel and beyond, so that all men might prepare themselves for the day the Immortan will rise and lead them all on the fiery road to Valhalla! And we shall start here, at home, by making an example of women like this whore who would tempt susceptible boys into a life of ease and docility.”

The next ten minutes were a blur as Evangeline was rolled over and kicked repeatedly by what seemed to be a group of at least ten. All but the leader joined in. She had already made peace with the fact that they were going to kill her when the leader had yelled for them to stop. He instructed two young men, whom he went out of his way to address as War Boys, to bring her back and leave her tied up in front of her tent as a message to any other woman who might be thinking about going into her line of work. 

Instead, the boys had decided that, as she was barely conscious, they might as well hold her down and see what they’d been missing out on. She had resisted to little avail as they dragged her inside her tent. One stood to guard the door while the other shoved her down onto her cot. 

“But then he made the mistake of untying my hands,” Evangeline explained. “Guess he wanted to take after his lord and savior by lettin’ me put up a fight. The second he turned around – sounded like he was takin’ a huff of that chrome shit they all used to have - I pulled out the pistol I had stashed in my grundies and popped ‘im in the leg. He and his buddy ran off afore I could get the blindfold off and get a look, but you keep an eye out for a boy with a bum leg limpin’ about. That’ll be the one. And he better pray to Joe I never get my hands on him.”

The Council sat in stunned silence for a moment after she finished speaking. Finally, Comfrey addressed Evangeline gently. “That was very brave of you, dear. Both to stand up to your assailants like that and to come forward to tell us your story. Thank you.”

“Evangeline,” Furiosa added. “I am truly sorry that we weren’t able to prevent this from happening to you. But know that we will do everything in our power to make sure it never happens to anyone else.” 

Evangeline gave her a grateful nod before turning and walking out of the room. The door slammed closed behind her and the Council sat for a moment in a stunned silence that was broken only by a barely stifled sob from Capable. “I can’t believe it got so bad so fast.”

Drog put his arm around her. “How could we have known?”

Corpus shook his head in disgust. “Gee, if only someone had suggested that we put more effort into determining the breadth and intensity of the cult…”

“Not helpful, Corpus,” Furiosa said. “There are a whole lot of things we all could have done differently, but all we can do now is deal with the situation on the ground. All the incidents so far have happened at night, so first things first – Drog, Capable, I want you to pick thirty good fighters you trust absolutely and have them patrol the grounds in pairs from dusk til dawn.” 

“But what if one of them turns out to be a cultist?”

“That’s why they’re working in pairs. There’s no way to know for sure, but this way, it’s safer for them and cuts down on risk.”

Corpus snorted. “That’s all well and good, but if we don’t want any more citizens getting hurt, the very first thing we should be doing is telling everyone the truth. I understand that it made sense to keep it quiet and avoid panic when there was one isolated incident, but now we know that we know better, it would be unethical for us not to warn people so they can be on their guard. And who knows, if we tell them specifically what to look out for, maybe we’ll actually get a lead on who’s behind this whole ridiculous thing.”

Toast bristled and began to object, but was interrupted by Comfrey, who put a calming hand on her arm. “My dear,” she said gently. “I know Corpus can be a touch… bombastic, but in this instance, I think he’s right. If our people being on their guard prevents even one person from getting beaten or killed, it will have been worth it.” 

“Alright, then,” Furiosa said. “Let’s put it to a vote. All in favor of informing the public?”

One by one, everyone on the Council raised a hand. 

“The measure has been approved. Have everyone gather at the old waterfall tomorrow morning and I’ll address the subject tomorrow. Unless anyone else would prefer to do it?”

This time, all hands stayed down. 

\---

As usual, Furiosa was the last to leave the room after the Council meeting had ended. She was trying to figure out the best way to inform people about the cult without causing a panic or, worse in her mind, a reversal of the progress they had made in the past few months. It pained her to tell people who were finally learning to embrace freedom to restrain themselves, but Corpus was right. She didn’t want any more deaths on her conscience. 

When she finally exited, she was surprised to find Evangeline standing just outside the door, waiting for her. “Oh, hi Evangeline. Didn’t realize you were still here. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Other than trackin’ down those smeg-heads who jumped me? Nah. Didn’t stay to gripe. Just wanted a word with your boyfriend. Thought he’d be here.”

“Sorry, who?”

“Oh, don’t pull that act, sweetie. You know exactly who I’m on about. The one you nearly slugged me for talkin’ to?”

“I didn’t…”

“Anyway, wanted to say thanks again. Good man, that one.”

“Okay…”

“Did he not even tell you about how he came back and tracked me down the day after we met?”

“He did not,” she replied flatly. 

“Oh, it’s nothing like you’re thinkin’. He came around to tell me to be careful cause some men got all fucked up about sex. I told him I didn’t need savin’ – I knew what I was doin’. He said he knew that, but I should at least be armed while doin’ it. Gave me that pistol I told y’all about and made sure I knew how to use it. Don’t you jump down my throat for this, but I offered him a little somethin’ after – figured he’d want payment of some kind, is all – but no, he was just doin’ it out of the kindness of his own heart. Probably saved my life.”

“Oh.” Furiosa couldn’t help the rush of affection that went through her upon hearing that. “He’s… he’s not here anymore.”

“Alright, then. When’ll he be back?”

Furiosa struggled to sound disinterested as she replied, “I don’t know if he is coming back.”

To her surprise, Evangeline broke into a grin. “Girl, I don’t know much, but I’ll guarantee you one thing. He’ll be back.”

\---

To everyone’s surprise, Max returned less than a week later. Apparently, he had run into a group of orphaned kids eking out an existence by the edge of a bog and had turned around to bring them back to the Citadel. He was planning to stay just one night to refresh himself, then head out again the next morning. 

Furiosa had greeted him tersely, then left him with the Sisters and went to go oversee Gear Gorge’s intensified training regimen. Since her speech a good number of civilians had shown up to volunteer for patrol duty. The mass panic they had feared had not come to fruition, but they were always a step away from more violence. 

She could not afford to be distracted right now. 

Seeing him again, especially this much sooner than expected, had been more difficult than she had thought it would. She was dismayed to find that she had gone from seeing him ride in and thinking, “shit, that bike is beat up” to thinking, “shit, he’s gorgeous.” 

In light of this, she had decided that keeping her distance was best for both of them. He would only be there one night and, after the circumstances surrounding his departure, she seriously doubted he’d show up that night to sleep in her bed as if nothing had happened. 

She worked through dinner, only partially on purpose, and was exhausted by the time she made her way back to her room. She opened her door and froze in surprise. Max was there, lounging in her bed and paging through an old atlas he’d found on her desk. He glanced up at her and nodded a greeting. When she made no response, the neutral look on his face morphed into one of concern. “You ok?” 

She didn’t trust herself to speak, as she genuinely had no idea what would come out if she did. She needed air. Without a word, she turned and began making her way to the rooftop garden. She heard him following her and moved faster, nearly at a run until she emerged in the cool night air. She took a deep, cleansing breath, then moved towards the edge of the roof and looked up at the night sky, steeling herself for his approach. 

He paused a few feet behind her. “Furiosa. Is everything ok?”

“I don’t know, Max. Is it?” She turned to face him. “I’m not the one who ran away.”

He looked stung. “You know I can’t stay in one place for too long. I’ve told you not to rely on me.”

“You know what?” She forced herself to pause and think before she continued. “That’s fair. That’s totally fair. I guess… I just started letting myself get used to you being around. I’ve come to value your advice and enjoy your company and… Hell, you’re the first person in twenty years that makes me feel safe. So, I guess what I’m saying is, I wanted you to stay. But you’re right, you gave me little reason to expect you to. I’m sorry.”

He gave a tight nod and turned to look up at the stars. Clearly, he thought the conversation was over. And maybe it should have been. But Furiosa remembered her talk with Toast and decided that, at the very least, she wouldn’t allow herself to become a hypocrite. “Max, wait.”

He turned back to her.

“Sometimes, there are moments when I look over to you and you’re looking back at me and I could swear that you want…” she gestured between the two of them, at a loss. “… whatever this is as much as I do. I see you working on a rig or training the boys or helping with the harvest and I think that maybe you could stay. Maybe you could be happy here. And I can’t help feeling like you’re wondering the same thing. But staying somewhere, committing to something, is terrifying. And I totally get that – it was terrifying to me, too. But I think you’re wondering about it anyway. 

“And if you’re not, if all of this is in my head and I should just let go of any hope of that happening, I need you to tell me now. I already want you here - you’re the only person in twenty years that has ever made me feel safe. And if you stay much longer, I think I’m going to start needing you and I can’t do that to myself. Not if you’re just going to run away every time you feel anything.”

He gave no response and the look in his eyes was unreadable. She felt another wave of anxiety and cast her gaze down as she concluded. 

“Now, look. I’m not asking you to decide once and for all to stay or to leave and never come back. All I’m asking is for you to tell me if this is real. If there’s a reason to hope.”

Furiosa looked up at him and was disappointed, if not surprised, to see his eyes widened in panic. He looked ready to bolt. She smiled sadly. “You want to run away so badly right now, don’t you?”

He opened his mouth to apologize, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand. “No, I get it. I really do understand. We can just forget this conversation ever happened. It’s okay.”

“No.” A determined look replaced the fear in Max’s eyes and he took a step towards her. “I can’t make any promises. But I, uh, I can try. ”

“Try?”

“Yeah.” Deliberately, giving her plenty of time to back away if she wanted, Max moved closer until there were only a few inches of space between them. “Is that enough?”

She inclined her head in a nod and then, gazing into his eyes, she lifted her hand and placed it gently on his cheek. They stayed like that for a moment, just breathing, allowing themselves to adjust to this new type of closeness. Then, slowly, Max turned his head and gently pressed a kiss into the palm of her hand. She shivered. 

He met her eyes again and moved close enough to her that she could feel his breath on her face, then paused as if waiting for permission. Again, she gave a single, slow nod. And then he leaned in and she closed her eyes as his lips met hers.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on out, the Explicit rating will apply pretty strongly to almost every chapter. Enjoy!

And then he was kissing her.

Max had started off tentatively, his lips just brushing hers as his thumb lightly stroked her cheek. After a moment, he paused and whispered, “This okay?”

Furiosa smiled. “It’s good. I want more.”

She moved her hands to the back of his neck and pulled him closer as she brought their lips together again. He slid his hands down and rested them on her waist, his grip loose enough that she could easily push him away if she wanted to. At the moment, though, she only wanted him closer. She teased his lower lip with her tongue until he parted his lips and deepened the kiss. He tasted like sun and sand and metal. She sighed contentedly and he gave a soft hum in response. 

They kissed until she felt her knees grow weak and found herself clinging to him for support, pressing her body tightly against his. His fingers found their way under the hem of her shirt. The feel of his warm hands on her bare skin sent a wave of want coursing through her. She abruptly found herself feeling overwhelmed. She couldn’t do this, it was too much too soon, she needed space. He gave him a little shove and gasped, “Wait, stop.”

He backed away immediately and looked at her with concern.

“Sorry. I just…” She trailed off, unsure how to explain.

“It’s okay. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks.” Her eyes met his. He looked completely sincere, but she doubted he was actually okay with the rejection. She sighed. “So. Are you going to run away now?”

“No,” he said matter-of-factly, then continued, “But, uh, does this… Should I sleep somewhere else tonight?”

She thought about it for a moment, then reached out to take his hand. “You know what? I think we can manage.”

 

* * *

The next morning was less awkward than Furiosa had expected. She and Max woken up side by side, shoulders touching. When she looked over at him, he shot her a shy smile that, coupled with a gravelly “good morning,” made her seriously consider climbing on top of him and kissing him again.

She resisted the urge and sat up, mumbling that she’d slept too late and should head downstairs before breakfast was over. Max rose to join her and it wasn’t until they entered the dining room and were greeted with surprised stares from the Sisters that it occurred to Furiosa that, in the past, she and Max had always staggered their morning entrances. They had never really done it on purpose – usually they were simply on different schedules – but in the back of her mind, she was aware that it helped stop rumors from spreading.  

Max, either oblivious or indifferent to the gawking, grunted a good morning and made his way past them into the kitchen to get food.

Capable shot her a knowing grin. “I guess Drog wasn’t mistaken about what he thought he saw on the roof last night.”

Furiosa forced a note of sternness into her voice when she replied, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The Sisters exchanged glances and started laughing. Furiosa chose to ignore them and followed Max into the kitchen.  

He glanced up at her. “Hey, I’m gonna eat on the way down. Told some of the boys I’d help with the lookout posts they’re putting up for the new patrols.”

“They girls aren’t making you feel uncomfortable, are they?”

“No. Are you feeling uncomfortable?” 

She hesitated. “No.”

“Good.” He leaned in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek, then headed out.

Furiosa gazed after him until she became aware of Capable’s presence in the doorway. She turned to find the younger woman smirking. “Well, that looked totally platonic to me.”

Furiosa turned to her, starting to get irritated. “You know, it’s really none of…”

“I know, I know.” The smirk left Capable’s face. “It’s not any of our business. We just care about you, Furiosa. You’ve been so amazing and strong and supportive of all of us this past year. We just want you to be happy. After everything we’ve been through, I think we all deserve some happiness, you know?”

Furiosa hesitated.

“If you want me to walk away and not say another word about it, I’ll do it. Just let me know that everything’s good. We’re your family and we’re here for you no matter what.”

Furiosa was moved despite herself. “I really appreciate you saying that, Capable. It… it means a lot. And everything is good. I think. I mean, it’s difficult. Neither of us are really sure of… anything, I guess." 

“I’m just glad you’ve both finally come around. As obvious as it is that two of you want each other, we thought there’d be at least another few months before either of you acted on it. But you’re okay? I know it’s been a long time. You’re not in pain or anything?”

“What? Oh, no, we didn’t…”

“Oh, got it. I know it was really difficult for me when I first decided I wanted to sleep with Drog…” 

“Wait, you and Drog are together?”

Capable smiled shyly. “Yeah, for a few weeks now. Anyway, I was terrified, at first. I mean, who wouldn’t be after what we’ve all been through? But it ended up being totally fine. Great, even. It’s totally different when you want it, too.”

“I’d hope so.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you alone so you can actually eat now. When you’re done, Dag has something she’d like to show up in the herb garden. Toast and Cheedo will probably want to chat at some point, too. And heads up, Cheedo is still a bit uncomfortable with sex stuff, so as far as she knows, tonight is a ‘date.’”

“I didn’t know tonight was anything,” Furiosa remarked dryly.

Capable laughed. “I'm sure.”

 

* * *

“And this here is Queen Anne’s Lace.” Dag handed Furiosa a final packet of seeds wrapped in old cloth. “If you take five milliliters of seeds and chew thoroughly once daily, it serves as fairly effective birth control.” She paused and sighed. “Wish I’d known that a few years ago. Not that I haven’t come to adore Angharad…”

“Look, I really appreciate this, but after everything I’ve put my body through, I doubt… Besides, I probably shouldn’t even be doing this anyway.”

Dag looked at her thoughtfully.  “You shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting him, you know.”

Furiosa raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I feel guilty?”

Dag shrugged. “Honestly, I haven’t wanted anyone since before Joe. Maybe I never will. But I think that, if I did, I would feel guilty. Or at least strange about it.”

“It’s not…”

“Oh, I know it’s completely illogical. Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be how I’d feel. You can’t control feelings as much as you’d like.”

“Fair.”

“I could give you the same advice I give the people who come to me with similar issues. Explain how our sexuality is sacred and we’re reclaiming it by making it an act of love again. I do truly believe that, by the way, but I know hearing it wouldn’t help me if I were in your situation, because I’d already understand that in theory. So instead, I’ll just say that you need to be patient with yourself. And when you start to panic, breathe through it. Remember who you are. Remember who he is. Look in his eyes and bring yourself back to him. And if you still want to stop, stop.”

 

* * *

Furiosa entered the armory to find Toast cleaning a line of revolvers. Toast looked subdued, the anxious energy from their conversation the day before gone, and Furiosa wasn’t sure whether she should be concerned.

“Hey, Toast. How did your talk with Cheedo go?”

Toast sighed. “Still unclear. She was really surprised and said she needed a few days. I’m trying not to think about it so I don’t go crazy. Anyway, sounds like your conversation went a whole lot better, huh?”

Furiosa shrugged. She really had no interest in discussing this any further.

Toast seemed to accept this and moved on. “So, I’ll be straight with you. I think Capable wants us to be doing some sort of rites of passage thing, like the Vuvalini do? I guess you guys had a thing where, before a woman… you know… did it for the first time, the other women in her family would all take time with her and pass on pieces of wisdom. It’s supposed to be a celebration and help make things easier for her, right?” 

“Yeah, honestly, I take issue with a good deal of that. But I get that you’re all doing it because you care.”

“Fair enough. I was thinking about what type of wisdom I could offer you, and I guess I could tell you a lot of facts about things, hormones and physiology and such… You’re wincing.”

“Sorry.”

“No, that was kind of my feeling, too. And I’ve been looking forward to having you teach me more about different types of guns. So I was thinking, if it’s alright with you, maybe we can skip the wisdom and just go shoot some stuff? What do you say?”

Furiosa grinned. “That sounds wonderful.”

 

* * *

It was nearing sundown when Furiosa and Toast finished target practice. Furiosa would have been happy to keep going, but Toast told her that Cheedo was waiting for her down by the baths. Understandably, Toast declined to accompany her, so Furiosa went on her own. Cheedo peeked her head out of one of the changing rooms outside the baths and then came over to greet her.

“So, Capable tells me you have a date tonight.”

“Does she?" 

Cheedo blinked in confusion. “I’m sorry, I thought…”

“No, I’m being obnoxious. Let’s say I do. Did you have advice you wanted to give me, too?”

“I wouldn’t know what to say. I’ve never had a date. I might want to, one day, but maybe not yet. But I’m sure it will be lovely for you. And I want to help with that. The other Sisters and I figured that you probably didn’t have a ton of fancy clothes…”

“I do not have any fancy clothes, as a matter of fact.”

“Right. Well, my mom used to be a seamstress, you know, and I learned a bit from her. I was allowed to keep some of her and my aunts’ dresses when I was taken a few years ago. We thought it might be nice for you to be able to dress up and feel pretty on a first date, so I borrowed one and tailored it so it should fit you.”

“Cheedo, that’s very generous, but I…” Furiosa wasn’t quite sure how to respond. On the one hand, she would have been perfectly happy never putting on a dress again. On the other, Cheedo was being incredibly thoughtful and Furiosa wanted to encourage her to keep putting herself out there. She sighed and began to remove her prosthetic.

Cheedo took it from her, promising to drop it and her old clothes back in Furiosa’s room, then gave her a quick hug. “Alright, go take a bath and when you come back I can help you into the dress. I’m going to make you feel like Cinderella!” She paused and frowned. “The part where she has the transformation to go to the ball, I mean, not all the parts Toast told us are a misogynistic portrayal of learned helplessness." 

“Well… thank you.”

“Though, I suppose Max isn’t really what you think of when you think ‘Prince Charming,’ is he? But he should be at least a bit cleaned up. Capable sent Drog to go help him get ready.”

A note of alarm crept into Furiosa’s voice. “Oh?”

“I think she meant, like, Drog would give him a comb and clean shirt, not shave his head and paint him white.”

“Let’s hope.”

When she was done in the bath, Furiosa wrapped a towel around herself and looked balefully at the door of the mercifully empty room. She wanted nothing so much as to get back into her comfortable clothes and slip out to go demolish something. The idea of the lacey fabric of the dress against skin raw from scrubbing made her wince. But who knew, maybe she’d end up liking it. Maybe Max would like it. She wished that didn’t matter to her.

She gave herself another minute of peace, then walked out to the changing room. Cheedo started helping her change right away. The dress was light pink, with a narrow skirt, a tight bodice, and a deep neckline. It had a long, gauzy right sleeve and Cheedo had adjusted the left so that the material simply draped down from the shoulder. Cheedo slipped high-heeled sandals on Furiosa’s feet and stepped back to examine her work. “You look beautiful.” She led Furiosa over to a tall mirror. “So, what do you think?”

Furiosa gaped. She barely recognized herself. Moreover, her eyes were immediately drawn to the many points of weakness in the outfit – the shoes were impractical to walk in, let alone run. The tight skirt impaired all but the smallest leg movements. The left shoulder was designed in a way that wouldn’t allow her to wear her arm. And, worst of all, there were no hiding places for weapons.

Still, Cheedo was trying to be nice and Furiosa knew she should be grateful, so she kept her mouth shut and forced a smile. “It’s lovely. Thank you, Cheedo.”

Cheedo beamed.

 

* * *

By the time Furiosa had completed the agonizingly slow walk to her bedroom in her new outfit, she felt twitchy and anxious. Steeling herself, she opened the door and found Max staring contemplatively out the window. He was wearing a clean grey button-down over his jeans, had combed his hair, and had shaved. He looked incredibly handsome, but Furiosa wasn’t sure she’d have been able to recognize him in a crowd.

He turned to face her and froze, blinking as he took her in. “Well,” he finally managed. “You look… different.”

Furiosa couldn’t help herself from letting out a short bark of laughter. “You know, Max, I don’t have a ton of experience with this type of thing, but I somehow doubt that’s what many women want to hear.”

He reddened and ducked his head. “Sorry. It’s just… a surprise.”

“Yeah. For me, too.”

He took a step towards her and tried again. “You look very pretty.”

“Thank you.”

He took another small step closer to her. There was a strange awkwardness to their movements that was new for them. Last night, everything had seemed to flow so naturally, but now, she couldn’t help feeling oddly disconnected from it all.

“Max,” she ventured. “What are we doing?”

“I have no idea.” He looked relieved to be able to say it.

“Then you know what? Let’s just… not. The boys were never able to get your car running, right? There’s no one down there right now, so we’d have the whole shop to ourselves. I bet between the two of us we can get her running before the sun comes up. What do you say?”

For the first time that night, Max smiled.

 

* * *

Three hours later, Furiosa and Max were well on their way to getting the engine running.  

Furiosa couldn’t fault the Brothers for not being able to fix it on their own. It had taken nearly every tool at their disposal to get this far. She hated to admit it, but even she may not have been able to figure it out on her own. But once she and Max had gotten back into normal clothes and out into the mechanics’ shop, the effortless, mostly silent rapport they had clicked back into place.

Max was under the car and Furiosa, prosthetic back in place, had just finished replacing the engine’s fuel filter. She was enjoying the challenging work and easy companionship so much that she had nearly forgotten that anything was different between them.

And then Max slid out from under the car, covered in sweat and a touch of engine grease and Furiosa found that she couldn’t take her eyes off him. _This_ was her Max. Noticing her stare, he stilled a moment, then lowered his arms slowly and turned to her. A small smile played on his lips.

She forced down the anxiety that was beginning to wash over her. The last time she was alone with a man in a locked room…

But no. This was different. Max was different.

She lowered the hood of the card looked back up at him. He took a step towards her and she felt what she at first thought was another wave of anxiety, but soon came to recognize as excitement. Anticipation, even.

He moved closer until he was standing mere inches away from her, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off his body against her skin. This close, the hungry look in his eyes was unmistakable.

So he wanted her, too. Not in a dress or on her knees, but like this. She gave him a playful smile. “You still think I look pretty now?”

“Right now,” he whispered. “You look gorgeous.”

With that, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him against her.

They kissed hungrily. There was nothing soft and gentle about it this time and it occurred to Furiosa that she should probably be more cautious, but that thought was drowned out by the rest of her body crying out to get closer, to take everything he had to give. She slipped her hand beneath his shirt and ran it over the taut muscles of his back before breaking away from him just long enough to tug at his shirt and whisper, “off.”

As he quickly complied, she began to unfasten the buckles on her left shoulder. She felt him watching her and paused, then gave him a slow nod and lowered her hand. As if in tacit acknowledgment of the trust she was granting him, Max moved carefully, almost reverently, as he undid the straps and slid them off her shoulder. He placed the metal arm on the table and turned back to her, glancing down at her shirt and awaiting her instruction. She nodded again and raised her arms as he slid the shirt up and over her head. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath and she felt herself tense up at the sudden exposure. Sensing her mood, he kept his hands at his sides and his eyes on hers.

She took a deep breath.

She was Imperator Furiosa and she did not let fear get in her way. This was Max and she trusted him implicitly. She looked into his eyes and she found the heat there mingled with affection that she found reassuring. She could stop this at any time. But right now, she didn’t want to stop.

She exhaled. 

And then she put her arms around his neck, drew him close, and whispered, “kiss me” in his ear. He readily obliged and, after a moment, she relaxed into the kiss. His hands came to rest on her hips and she was immediately thankful for their solidity and warmth. He broke the kiss to lift her up onto the table and she instinctively spread her legs so he could move in close to her. He kissed her again on the lips before making his way down the side of her neck to suck and nip at her pulse point as his fingers traced circles on the small of her back. She tilted her head back to allow him better access.  

After a moment, he continued his downward exploration. He slid a hand up to cup one of her breasts and placed a series of light kisses along the top of the other, drawing a sigh from her. He lowered his head and flicked his tongue teasingly over a hardened nipple until she grasped the back of his head and pulled him closer. He sucked, gently at first, then harder and she felt heat pooling between her legs. She pushed him back a moment and slid off the table to help him remove the rest of her clothes.

She figured that he would rise and remove what remained of his own clothes, but instead he knelt down in front of her and began planting soft, breathy kisses along her hipbone.  She was idly wondering whether she could go crazy from wanting when he replaced his lips with his hands and gently guided her back onto the table. She lay back and let him slide her legs over his shoulders.

He kissed her thighs, her hips, her navel, and it distantly occurred to her that she should feel vulnerable, embarrassed even, but he was making her feel so good she found it hard to care. And then he moved his mouth lower and her thoughts skidded to a halt.

Basil had done this for her once, long ago, and she remembered feeling fluttery and pleasant after and saying thank you. This was different. It was readily apparent that Max knew what he was doing and she had never felt anything like this before. She was thinking that she couldn’t imagine anything feeling better when he began switching between broad, flat strokes of his tongue and lightly sucking on her clit. She bit down hard on her fingers to suppress a moan.

She forced her eyes open so she could look at him. He hummed softly, sending another shiver running through her, then glanced up at her without breaking his rhythm. His blue-green eyes were shining, pupils blown, and she was hit with the sudden realization that he was enjoying this, too, that he was taking pleasure in pleasing her.

When she closed her eyes and moaned again, she made no effort to suppress it. He quickened his pace and she dug her fingers into the rough wood of the table. She was close now and her entire world felt like it had been narrowed down to the feeling of Max’s mouth on her. When she came, her orgasm hit her with the force of a tidal wave, leaving her breathless and incoherent.

Once she had come back to herself, she lifted her head to look down at him and gave him a shaky grin. Max, a satisfied smile on his face, planted a final kiss on her thigh before rising. Furiosa watched him lazily, admiring the hard lines of his body and the curve of his ass in those jeans when something suddenly clicked. He was still wearing jeans.

She sat up abruptly, flushing. “Fuck, I’m sorry. That was… You are incredible and I was completely caught up and… Anyway, what… um… what do you want?”

His smile flickered. “I’m good.”

“But… I mean, don’t you…?”

“I don’t want to think about me. I just want to make you feel good.”

She rose and put her arms around his neck. “Well, I have to tell you, right now I feel amazing.”

His smile returned full force and he kissed her. “Good. You deserve to feel amazing.”

“So do you, Max.”

He forced a casual shrug. “Don’t know about that. Come on, the sun’s gonna be up soon. We should get dressed and get this place cleaned up or we’ll need to deal with an even more awkward breakfast than today’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, we're just past the halfway mark of this fic. Heading down to SDCC, so the next chapter will probably take a bit longer than usual. I figured it would be good to leave the characters in a (relatively) happy place for now, especially given what's on the horizon for them... 
> 
> Anyway, hope you're enjoying so far and see you all after the Con!

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a longer work, have at least five more chapters partially written and more planned.
> 
> I always appreciate feedback / constructive criticism!


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